666 Park Avenue: A Novel

After seeing numerous ABC series based on books that got cancelled in one season and wanting to know what REALLY happened, I decided to finally read the books, which is why I borrowed 666 Park Avenue from the library. I didn’t think that it was possible, but the tv show is better even though it really made no sense. 666 Park Avenue: A Novel is the worst of chick lit meets the supernatural as metaphor for female power and difficulties in relationships. And it is part of a series, which I will now hate read-damn being a completist. The good news is that it is so poorly written that I was able to read a large part of it when I got a pedicure a couple of weeks ago (I would not have even started it if I had another book on me when I was getting the pedicure) & the rest today in less than a couple of hours. Here is a sample of the dreck that you’ll find in its pages, “Jane sank lower in the bathtub, the bubbles tickling her collarbone. She lifted one lazy hand out of the water and turned it over: her engagement ring sparkled wildly even in the muted light.” I chose that sample randomly. Literally choose any page, and it is similarly crappy. It makes the Shopaholic series seem like a complex series about humanity and the depths of human relationships. I’m not kidding. Save yourself!